
''V^ 



X 'V ^^V's > >■ 



,^1.^: 



s 




S 




RIBUT 






J>ffcBX)tim^'B Tribute, 



Affection's Tribute. 



Original Poems, 



BY 



V 

R. S. NAYLOR. 



l^llH^ 



OSKALOOSA, IOWA, i 

CENTRAL BOOK CONGERN 
1874. 






Kiilcrcd according: to :ift of Coiif^ress, in Ihc year 1874, liy 

A. W. NAYLOK. 

Ill the office of the Librarian of Congress ai Washington, D. C. 



PRESS OK 
CENTRAL BOOK CONCKRN, 

(hkaloosu, Jmoa. 



TO 
MY PARENT! 

AND 

AfY FRIENDU 

I bcbitJife tbis little f ct!tinu 

AS A TRinUTK OF 

Affeelion and fi.espect. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGK- 

TO OHIO 17 

LI^ES PRESENTED TO MY HUSBAND WITH 

A BIRTHDAY PRRSENT, ... 21 

I THANK THEE, KIND SAVIOUR FOR 

TEARS, 25 

THOUGHTS OF HOME, 28 

DREAMS OF HOME, 30 

LINES WRITTEN ON THE BLANK LEAF OF 

A BIBIiE PRESENTED TO MY LITTLE 

DAUGHTER ONE YEAR OLD, . . 33 

EVENING THOUGHTS, 36 

TO UY BROTHER, 41 

SLANDER, 45 

NIGHT THOUGHTS, 46 

TO A SNOW BIRD 49 

DARE TO DO RIGHT, 52 

TO MY OLD PLAYMATE, .... 53 



CONTENTS. XV 

^ I'AGK. 

THK STREAM OF TIME, .... 58 

BEAUTY OF TIIPJ MORNIN(;, ... 60 

EVENINCf, 62 

THE SOUL, 63 

DEDICATED TO MY FRIEND ON THE 

DEATH OF HER CHILD, ... 64 

TO THE FLOWERS, 67 

HOPE, 69 

THE CHURCHYARD, 70 

TO THE EVENING STAR, . . . ' . 71 

THOUGHTS BY THE OCEAN, ... 73 

I WATCH FOR TIIEE, 75 

MORNING MEDITATIONS, .... 77 

TO MY INFANT SON, 79 

WE WHICH HAVE BELIEVED DO ENTER 

INTO REST, 82 

INVOCATION, 84 

TO THE LOVED AT HOME, • . . . 86 

LINES WRITTEN UNDER MY PICTURE, . 88 



TO on 10. 



I IIA VIO \i'\l i\u'i', <l<-:tr Olii'), 

lliil, my niciiiory (ondly <;liiigH 
To tliy \'<ic\iH, H(» liljj;li iiiid (ow'M'iii^, 

To t,liy ever -Jill hi ii}4' Hprinj^H; 
To iliy iricjidow- ;iii(l Uiy vjiIIcvh, 

VVlK'Cf iliy ri'y,stiil watcrri hImik!, 
'I'o Llic ol<l liill- wli<'r-(' (lie jii'Jiy rocl< 

l''laHh(!M tliroijj^li l,li(; wiivin^ pine 



18 TO OHIO. 

In the morn i lit;' of my c'.iildhood 

I liavc oi'tvu loNCcl to rovo, 
When the orb oi' day was glittering 

From the cahn, bhie sky above, 
To thy forests, "where thy songsters 

Sweetly san^- their songs of glee. 
All these ties, bi'Ioved Ohio, 

Hound my youthful heart to thee. 

And as I've sat there musing. 

In the shelter of the wood. 
On the deeds of those of other days,- 

The great, the wise, the good, — 
I, in fancy, stood beside the place 

AVhere the eonneil fire once shone 
On the rude home of the red man, 

In the days that now have flown. 

And ofttimes by thy waters, 

AVhen the autumn's gentle breeze 



I'o OHIO. 



I!» 



^^^^ll('<l <|iii('lly iiWovc my li(':ul 

Tlic lall, iiiiil)r:i|;('()iis (recs, 
I've iuiis(m1, when no soiiiul hroUc my spell 

l)Ut IIk' \v:iv('s ii|)(iii (liy sliuiv^ 
AikI (lie cudciicc of tJiosc l)illi>\vs 

Oiilv made iwc l<iv(' llicc more. 



And when evening's ••<)M,s(cll;iti(»ns 

( Jlil,t(M(Ml on thy \vat(M-,s clear, 
Wariun;i; me thai I mnsl, lea\M' (he |>l:iee 

So fondly loved, so drar, 
I wand(;red honu^ wlwn (he ehunoroux 
voi(M' 

Of th(i day was hiislicd and s(ill; 
No sound l)r(d<(! on my ev<'-iMn<i,' ihoii^htM 

l>ii( (he sori};- of (Jie \vlii|>|>onrvvIil. 



Oh ! thou hlcst land of niy ehildliood ! 
l*^'esh l,o-da\' my memory l)rint;,s 



20 T») OHIO. 

lu't'olk'i'tioMs oi" thy wild wotuls, 
Ami thy cK'ar Miid crystal springs; 

Still my heart ilinii-s to thy lorosts, 
M'itli tlii'ir hrown, r.iajostic trees. 

Oh ! belovi'd laiul ol' tuy ehiklhood, 
I do U)vo tluH' more tor these. 



rhoui;,h 1 love the western prairies, 

And the ties are stonj;' that hind 
My heart to those who have bt'on to me 

So i'aithi'ul, true, and kind ; 
Yi't my heart urows tirt'd of noise and stritb, 

And often in my dreams 
I go hack to the days of my i-arly life, 

\\ hen I sat by thy (juiet streams. 



LINK^ PllESENTED TO MY HUSBAND 
WITH A BIRTHDA Y PRESENT. 

n^HK .springtime of youth is liist glidiiii;' away, 

And the noon of our livos very soon will 
conic on. 
1 look back thron<;h the vista of time to the 
(lays 
That have vanished since our patiis in life 
have been one ; 

Since the day that we stai-tcd tojijether to share 

Life's confli(ttH and con(|ucsts, its joys and its 

tears ; 

And aithonjih we have tasted our portion of care, 

Yet, withal, we must say, they have been 

ha])py years. 



22 TO MY HUSBAND. 

And I praise the kind (river who dwelleth 

above, 

That in His great <;oodness He ever bestowed 

Such a being to cherish, such a warm heart to 

love, 

Such a hand to assist me o'er life's rugged road. 



And the tears trickle down as I think of the 
time 
We no longer shall carry life's burdens to- 
gether. 
When the grim monster Death shall [)ierce my 
heart or thine. 
When the chain that now binds us his sickle 
shall sever. 

How lonely the journey will be to the one 
Left alone to contend with earth's sorrow and 
grief; 



TO MY HUSBAND. 23 

And naught but the thought llmt it cannot be 

long 
C/Ouhl aftbrd the sad heart any babn of reUef. 



Then, dear one, let us live so that when we shall 
part, 
We may feel the assurance of meeting above 
In that blissful forever where, heart joined to 
heart, 
We may dwell evermore with the ones that 
we lov^e. 



And oh ! let us strive, while together we stay. 
To act toward ea(;h other so affectionate and 
kind 

That when one from the other is taken away 
No cloud of remorse can o'ershadow the mind. 



24 



TO MY iirsnAM). 



Miiy tho Slid, lonely lu'nrt bt- consoled with the 
thoiii;ht, 
When the t'orin it most loved has Ix^eii laid 
out of si<2;ht, 
That the vows made in youth it has ui'ver ibriiot, 
l>ut has done what it could to make life's 
pathway hrii^ht. 



/ THANK TIThl'J, KIND SAVIOUR, FOR 
TEA US. 



VXT^Hl^N my licurl is ()'(!rl)iir<l<'ii(;<l with sor- 
row uikI cnrc, 
AikI my mind <»v(,'r|)o\v('r<'(l by grief, 
And my woe-stricken s|)irit is seel<in<;' to find 

The all-li(':ilin<j;' balm of" relief; 
When my tempest-lossed bark finds no iiav(;fi 

of IV'St 

For its burd(ns(»nie earj^o of fears, 
A-; it sails life's r<»uj^h oeean, forlorn and dis- 
tressed, 

I thank thee, kind Savionr, for tears. 
4 



26 I THANK THEE, SAVIOUll, FOR TEAKS. 

When sober reflection can bring me no joy 
From the grave of the long-bnrieJ past, 
And the future's dark vista seems jiavcd with 
sharp thorns, 
And by tempest chjuds thickly o'ercast ; 
When the star that once gilded my path o'er 
life's way 
In the heavens no longer appears, 
And the light-house of hope seems to die fi-om 
my view, 
I thank thee, kind Saviour, for tears. 

When the friends who once met uie, when for- 
tune was kind, . 
At the altar of friendship to bow. 
And brought wreaths of affection my heart to 
entwine. 
Have forgotten to meet me there now ; 
When misfortune's chill breezes have taken the 
voice 



I THANK THEE, SAVIOUR, FOR TEARS. 27 

Of affection that grc'eted my ears, 
And the steel words of harshness pierce wounds 
in my breast, 
I thank thee, kind Saviour, for tears. 

I thank thee, wise I^u-ent, that thou didst fore- 
know 
That afflictions would meet us while here. 
Which would sink the weak heart in the ocean 
of woe 
If 'twere not for the solace of tears. 
And, although for a few fleeting days I am 
placed 
In a world full of scutows and fears, 
Thou hast given this means to relieve my sad 
heart ; 
O, I thank thee, I thank thee for tears. 



THOUGHTS OF HOME. 

T 'M lonely, and I t'ocl to-ni^;:;ht, 
liorne down by nielanclioly's hand ; 

I wander far from c-hildhood's lionic, 
A stranpcr in a strange, sti'anii:t' land. 

Oh ! gentle moon, look from thy throne, 
And tell, oh ! tell nie, dost thou see 

One friend amidst the thi'onii' at home 
Who thinks and drops a tear foi- me ? 

Oh I tell me from thy throne above. 
Thou bright and beauteous orb of light, 

Does a lather's or a mother's love 
Yearn for their child to-night ".' 



THOUGHTS OP HOME. 29 

"Oh ! does a brother long to see 
The playniute of his early years? 

Oh ! does a sister think of me, 
And shed in silence hitter tears 

For the one who led her infant hand 
And joined her in her childish fun ? 

J)oes she think of nie in a stranger land ? 
Oh ! does she think of the absent one? 



DREAMS OF HOME. 

"T^EAR mother, I've been to the land of 

dreams, 
That strange, strange world of mysterious 

gk'ams, 
Where the withered flowers of days gone by 
Perfume the dear chambers of imagery. 

T saw thee there in that spirit land. 

As joyful I stood midst the well known l)and 

Of familiar faee,«, that brightly shone 

With iov as vou welcomed vour absent home. 



DREAMS OF HOME. 'M 

You all wore there, and your voiees clear 
Fell like notes of music upon my ear ; 
And a world of aifeetion pure and deep 
Seemed given me in that land of sleej). 

Your faces shone with the tire's bright blaze, 
As we sat by the hearth of my early days. 
A brother's eye sparkled with strange delight, 
As he said, I'm so glad you have come to-night. 

But the morn has come, and my dream is gone ; 
I awake with a heart more sad and lone. 
Oh ! strange, mysterious land of sleep ! 
Thou hast vanished and left me to jtine and 
weep. 

O Morpheus, come at the daylight's close; 
Bring the eyelids sleep and the mind repose ; 
But never again bring the land of dreams 
To remind me of home and its clear, blue 

streams 



32 DREAMS OF HOME. 

For bitter tears from the heart's eore come 
When I wake to renienibranee^ at morning-' 

dawn, 
And find it's a dream that has vanished by 
And left my visions of home to die. 



LINES WRITTEN ON THE BLANK 

LEAF OF A BIBLE PRESENTED 

TO MY LITTLE DAUGHTER 

ONE YEAR OLD, 

'\ /1~Y darling May, bestowed by Heaven 

To light life's dark, bewildered road.; 

Thou gem of love, so kindly given 

To lead my wandering soul to God ; 

To thee I dedicate this gift 

That points the only glorious way 

That leads to life and perfect peace, 

And everlasting day. 
5 



34 TO MY DAIGHTEI!. 

I give it with a iK'tirtfelt prayer, — 

A mother's prayer, devout, sincere, — 
That thou niayest learn the many truths 
That (lod has wisely })lantetl here. 
My infant, thou dost little know 
The joy, the fear, the hope, the dread 
That thrills thy mother when she feels 
That thou hast youth's wild paths to tread. 



To tread, if God sliouldst will that thou 

Shouldst come u])on the busy stage 
Of human life to act the part 

Of youth, of girlhood, and of age. 

How that may be I cannot know ; 
Perha])s e're morning's light shall couie 
Thy soul may soar to sj)irit worlds. 
God's will be done — fn-ever done. 



TO MY DAUGHTER. 35 

lUit should He spare thee yet to read 

The volume whieh thy mother gave, 
When the frail form that first thou knew 
Lies nioldering in the silent grave, 
I charge thee by the silken cord 
( )f love that binds my soul to thee 
To give thy heart unto the Lord, 
And live but for eternitv. 



EVENING THOUGHTS. 

f\ HOW pleasant to nie i.s the still hour of 
evening, 
When the shadows of twilight eome stealingly 
on, 
And the soft, gentle breeze fans the Marni brow 
of heaven, 
When the great king of daylight has vanished 
and gone; 
When natnre's loud voices are hushed into quiet. 
And the husbandman's labor is brought to a 
close ; 
When this great active world's busy tunudt and 
riot 
Into stillness is hushed by the hand of repose. 



EVENING THOUGHTS. 37 

As I sit by my fireside, the lamp brightly burn- 
ing, 
My thoughts wander back o'er the work of 

to-day 
That has passed to that bourne whence no trav- 
eler's returning 
Has ever illumined our wandering way. 
Oh ! thou day just departed on time's fleeting 
pinions ! 
What news hast thou borne to that fathomless 
sea 
Of my sins of omission, my deeds of transgres- 
sion ■? 
Oh ! what is the message thou bearest of me ? 

Hast thou borne on thy pinions the wailing of 
sadness ? 
The groans of the suffering my hand might 
have stilled ? 



■"is EVKNIMG THOrOHTS. 

( )r were thy wings- laden with sweet songs of 
gladness 
Fnim mouths of the hungry I caused to be 
filled ? 
Oh I thou great book of" fate, thou record of 
ages! 
What hast thou to tell of my actions to-day ? 
What black marks of sin are inscribed on thy 
pages 
To be read in the finis with fear and dismay ? 



When my fancy peruses that great book of 
actions 
From the story there written I fain would 
depart ; 
For methinks that that dreaded herculean 
volume 
Is filled with the numberless sins of my heart. 



EVENIN(; THOUfiHTS. o9 

And so seldom are scattered my few deeds of 
goodness; 
Along through the story of my useless past, 
That my heart seems to shrink from that sure, 
truthful record, 
And by sad, dark forebodings my soul is o'er- 
east. 

O, thou great king of day ! when again thou 
hast risen 
To waken a slumbering world out of sleep, 
May I start in the straight, narr(jw pathway of 
duty 
And all God's commandments so faithfully 
keep 
That when darkness again shall preside o'er the 
billow, 
Or night's radiant queen take her watch o'er 
the sea, 



40 EVENING THOrOHTS. 

May I sweetly rc'})Ose on my soft, thornk'ss 
pillow, 
And feel that this world is tln' better for me. 



TO MY BROTHER. 

'r^EAR brother, though the critic's lip 

May proudly curl and sneer 
At the unstudied, uncouth rhyme 

That I have written here, 

1 hope for better things from you 
Who know my heart's intent ; 

Who know these lines were only penned 
For youth's encouragement. 

1 am your senior, and should by 

Experience be more wise. 

Then do not deem it rash in me 

To drop you this advice. 
6 



42 TO MY BROTHER. 

You'll find youth'8 path a .slippery (me. 

And, if you're not aware, 
You'll slip from virtue's narrow track 

Into temptation's snare. 

Sometimes you'll find in it a rose, 

And oftentimes a thorn ' 
That goads the tender heart witli shamt 

And leaves it sadly torn. 

If you will only pluek the flowers 
Of knowledge, love, and truth. 

In after years you may look back 
Upon a well spent youth. 

But if you leave the path of right 
To pluck the thorns and flowers 

Of idle pleasure, you'll look back 
With pain on childhood's hours. 



TO MY BROTHER. 4-\ 

You'll find its roses soon will fade 
And leave you naught but thorns 

Til cull in winter's gloomy age 

And probe the heart that mourns. 

You'll meet with those who seek to lure 
You from truth's path of light ; 

l^ut show them works to prove that you 
Are standing for the right. 

Mingle not with such : you little know 

The influence it may have ; 
For those who see you oft with rogues 

Will mark you for a knave. 

Xo ; rather seek for friendship 
With the forest, vale, or brook ; 

Or at the shrine of solitude, 

With some kind, teaching book, 



44 TO MY BKOTHER. 

Search deep for wisdom's shining ore 

That foes can ne'er destroy, 
And keep it bright with earnest toil, 

And free from all alloy. 

And, as yon sail down Time's swift stream, 

Strive hard to keep your bark 
In duty's path, and leave behind 
A bright and shining mark ; 

A mark to shine and ever gild 

The path you trod on earth ; 
A name to live and ne'er disgrace 

The land that gave you birth. 



8LANDEB. 

r\ MAN! let reason's power tame 

That venomous tongue, that fiery lust 
That publisheth thy neighbor's shame, 
But leaves his good deeds in the dust. 

( )h ! let his deeds of virtue fly 

On immortal wings, and ever live ; 

But leave his deeds of shame to die 
And molder in oblivion's grave. 



NIGHT THOUGHTS. 

?rp"VV AS evening. On the rocky hill 
The moon looked down in tender love ; 

The ocean wave was hushed and still ; 
The sky was blue and calm above. 

The stars put forth their gentle light 
To cheer their radiant, beauteous queen. 

I gazed with rapture and delight 
Upon the charming, lovely scene. 



NICiHT THOUr4HTS. 47 

Oh ! was it wrong that I should pine 

For eagle's wings to soar away 
Where lights like these forever shine 

With steady and undimming ray ? 

Who would not leave a world of woe, 
Where beauty flees with fleeting time, 

And to those charming regions go 
And like those stars forever shine? 

Yet pause, my soul, art thou aware 
That mortals staiued by guilt and sin 

May strive to make an entrance there. 
But cannot, cannot enter in ? 

Art thou not marked by many a crime 

That hath not been forgiven ? 
And wouldst thou enter that fair clime 

And mar the peace of Heaven? 



48 NIGHT THOUGHTS, 

Ah, no ; I'd rather stay below, 

A\'ith creatures weak and frail likt' nie. 

Than carry guilt and sin and woe 
Where they should never be. 

But when my robes have been washed white, 

And all my crimes forgiven, 
Then I would join the saints in light 

And shine on earth from Heaven. 



TO A SNOW BIRD. 

f\ COME to my window, 
Thou beautiful bird! 

Thy sweet little note 
Is the only I've iieard 

Since the' suninier and autumn 
Have vanished and gcme. 

All the others have left thee 

To warble alone. 

7 



50 TO A SNOW BIRD. 

O come to ray window ! 

The tempest's wild storm 
Will certainly shiver 

Thy beautiful form. 
I'll give thee protection 

From snow, sleet, and rain. 
And when thou desirest 

I'll free thee again. 



Dost thou ask, little bird. 

Why I love thee the best, 
And why thou art dearer 

To me than the rest ? 
When the others have vanished 

With sweet summer's bloom 
Thou Cometh to cheer me 

In winter's sad gloom. 



TO A SNOW BIRD. 51 

I've had friends, little bird, 

That would .stay very near 
To ray side until tempests 

And storms would appear ; 
But when fortune's bright sunshine 

Had settled in gloom 
Those friends quickly left me 

Alone to my doom. 

1 too have had friends 

Who were faithful and true. 
Who would stay through life's sunshine 

And misfortunes too ; 
Who closely would cling 

When life's sunshine was warm, 
But closest would cling 

In its tempest and storm. 



DARE TO no RIGHT. 

X|'^P:LL()\V-M()RTALS, as y.)(i jeuriiov 

Down tlu' el)l)'mg stream of time 
To the sacred har of judgment. 

There to answer fir each erime, 
Let the voiee within direct you 

Through life's scenes of dark and light : 
Listen to its solemn teachings, — 

Do what conscieni'c says is right. 

It will tench yon, if you'll listen 

To its still and (piiet voice, 
What's the |)ath >.i( right and duty, 

Though it may not be your choice. 
And in <'a<i's where temptation 

Lures you from truth's path of light. 
Lav aside y(Mir will and wishes, — 

Do what conscience savs is ri^ht. 



TO 31 V OLD PL AY 31 ATE. 

T 'Vl^ been sittiiiii; by my window 
In the moon's soil, gentk' liji;ht, 

Tliinkiu'jj of the past and friends beloved 
Who are far from me to-night. 

I've been wondering if thy memory 

Is as faithfnl nnto thee 
In bringing gone-by scenes to view 

As mine has been to me. 



54 TO MY OLD play:>[ate. 

Mine lias brouo'lit the ancient niradow, 
Where we often used to !i;o 

In winter with onr little sleds 
To slide uju^n the snow. 

It has brought the little playhouse 
That we built upon the rock, 

With its carpets and its beds of moss, 
And its roof, the hoary oak. 

There we spent the hours of summer, 
When we were young and fair ; 

J5ut for our future years we built 
Bright castles in the air. 

On the rock upon the hillside 
Our playhouse still doth stand, 

But the castles that we built for age 
Were oulv built on sand, 



TO MV OLD PLAYMATE. 55 

And the waves o{' time eame swititly, 

And ivom off the sandy shore 
They washed youth's bright airy eastles 

From our view forever morv. 



We have learned that life is real 

And of sterner stuff is nitide 
Than our youthful visions pictured 

From the future's brilliant shade. 

Tliou hast li^ivcn to another friend 
Tiiy hand, thy love, thy life ; 

Thou hast tried life's stern realities, — 
Thou hast become a wife. 

And I would not have thee falter 

In thy love for that true one 
Who has linked his fate for life's short day 

With that which is thine own. 



56 TO MY OIA) I'LAY.MATK. 

i have bowed at that same altar, 
And have vowed to ever love 

( )iie dearer than all other friends 
Except the Friend above. 

And may that Friend in Heaven 
Send misery, want, and sliame, 

ii" I ])r()ve inconstant to my vow 
Or e'er disgrace his name. 

But why should ties be seveied 

That were formed in childhood's breast, 

Though thy home is in an eastern lantl. 
Mine in the prairied west. 

liCt the silver cord that bound us 
In those ha])py days of yore 

Grow stronger with the growing years, 
And bind us evermore. 



TO MY Ol.D PLAYMATK. 

Yes, evermore remember me 

As thy firm and faithful friend, 

And M'hile apart let our tongues be 
The evor-faitliful pen. 



THE STREAM OF TIME. 

^A 7 E are gliding down the stream of Time, 

Like ships upon the sea; 
We're striving for that blissl'ul elime 
In the bk'St eternity. 

We're sometimes tossed by adverse seas 

Which drive us from the way 
That h'ads to life and perfect peace 

And everlasting day. 

liut if our eaptain is the Lord 

We need not fear its power ; 
He ealms it at a single word 

And quells its awful roar. 



THE STREAM OP TIME. 59 

Then let us choose Him for our guide 

Down the rough stream of Time, 
That our frail barks may smoothly glide 

To Heaven's celestial clime. 



BEAUTY OF THE MORNING. 

"TIT HEN the shades of night are ilying 

From the dazzling orb of day, 
And the lark its wing is hieing 
Upward on its heavenly way, 

Then I rise with joy and gladness 
From my couch of sweet repose, 

And I banish grief and sadness 
With life's many cares and woes. 

I look around with admiration 
• On the meadow, hill, and wood, 
And see the beauties of creation 
Made by Him so wise and good ; 



r.EAUTY OF THE MORNING. 61 

Ami then I think how thankful ever 

1 should strive to live and be 
To the great and bounteous (xiver 

^Vho has been so kind to nie. 



EVENING. 

^piIE harvest moon is shining- bright 

O'er nature's sweet repose ; 
No cloud obscures the mellow ligrht 

That gilds the summer nxse. 

But hushed aud still all nature seems; 

Each ])assion sinks to rest 
From daylight's toils and various schemes 

That agitate the breast. 



THE SOUL. 
''pHE mountain tall must waste away 

The forest oak must bend ; 
The flower is subject to decay 

Who marks it for its friend. 

The man of high ancestral birth, 

The man of pride and lust, 
Must yield his body to the earth : 

Dust must return to dust. 

But the soul. Immortal, in its prime 

Shall never, never die, 
But live throughout the boundless time 

Of all eternitv. 



DEDICATED TO MY FEJESD OA TDE 
DEATH OF HER CHILD. 

QUE hath luissod away from all earthly mad- 
ness, 

From sin and sutferinii-, from jiain and woe, 
To that blissful region where joy and tiladness 

Like mighty rivers forever flow-. 
Her spirit has gone where the soul's elysian 

Never crumbles with sickness or sad decay ; 
From terrestrial woes to the joys of Heaven 

Her tender spirit hath passed away. 



TO MY FRIEND. 65 

She has passed away, and your hearts are lonely ; 

You'll miss her voice in the quiet eve ; 
The morn will come, but its coming only 

Brings dreary memories to make you grieve. 
The noonday sun, with its beauteous beaming 

Will gild our earth with a radiance bright, 
But your hearts are sad, and its splendor gleam- 
ing 

Cannot enter in with its cheerful light. 

She has passed away, and the dews of autumn 
To-night are falling around her bed ; 

She has heard the voice of her Saviour calling. 
She has joined with the blessed, the early 
dead. 

Grieve not for the loved so early taken 
By the frosts of death to her final home ; 

For years will pass like a fleeting phantom. 

And you may join in the world to come. 
9 



66 TO MY FKIKKD. 

She hath passed away with the mild September, 

Like a tender flower beginning to bloom. 
But breath not a .sigh : lone mother, remember 

Her spirit hatli })assed beyond the tomb 
To that happy land, to that blessed Saviour 

Who called his lamb to the other shore; 
And when you lament your absent daughter, 

Remember the skies have one aup-el more. 



TO THE FLOWERS. 

r OVEIjY flowers of sunny summer, 

Can it be that ye have gone 
Like a transient, fleeting shadow. 
From the hillside and the lawn ? 

Can it be that ye have vanished 

Like a vision of the mind, 
Like a passing gale of autumn, 

Like a cloud before the wind ? 

In vain I seek you in the valleys. 
In vain I search the leafless grove, 

In vain I wander o'er the prairies ; 
I cannot find the flowers I love. 



68 TO THE FLOWERS. 

Ye missing treasures of the summer 
That bloomed to beautify the earth, 

Why have you left the breeze that loved you, 
The dust that gave your soft germs birth ? 

In vain I call you, gentle flowers ; 

Ye fear old tyrant winter's reign ; 
But when he leaves the lawn and hillside 

Will you not lift your heads again ? 

Adieu, fair flowers! The hope that lingers 
To cheer my heart since you have fled 

Proclaims in loud and thrilling accents 
That spring will resurrect the dead. 



HOPE. 

TUT OPE silently stole to the bed of disease, 
And the sufferer's frown changed to calmness 

and peace. 
She went to the dwelling of sorrow and sadness, 
And soon from that dwelling came sweet songs 

of gladness. 

She led the young tyro up the steep path of 

fame, 
And would not desert him in sickness or pain. 
But stayed by his couch till life's last link was 

riven, 
And when he left earth she went with him to 

Heaven. 



THE CHURCHYARD. 

TDAUSE by yon churchyard, thoughtless 

youth ! 
Pass not thus careless by. 
Here is the place, says solemn truth, 
Where all must shortly lie. 

Pause and reflect, gray, sober age ! 

The tide of time ebbs fast ; 
^Twill wash thee from life's busy stage, 

And launch thee here at last. 



TO THE EVENING STAR. 

"DALE evening star, with gentle spark, 

O come and bid our labors fly ; 
Guide home the wanderer through the dark 
When evening closes daylight's eye. 

Conduct my thoughts, sweet star, above 
The many cares of human life, 

Where angels light each face with love, 
And ever banish mortal strife. 

And while we're journeying to the tomb 
In this thick wilderness of tears. 

Amidst the world's perplexing gloom, 
O light our darkened clouds and fears. 



72 TO THE EVENING STAR. 

Guide us, sweet star, while liere we stay, 
In paths of righteousness and love ; 

And when our spirits leave their clay. 
Pale evening star, light theui above. 



THOUGHTS BY THE OCEAN. 

''PHERE'S beauty in thy curling stream 

That charras like fancy's morning dream ; 
It lulls the senses, charms the ear, 
And stills the nerve from torturing fear. 

-There's sadness in thy solemn tone 
That echoes to the widow's moan 
Of sorrow for the lost and brave 
Who have found in thee a watery grave. 

There's terror in thy threatening wave 

That quells the heart, though stout and brave; 

When tempests beat against thy breast 

Thou art in awful terror dressed. 
10 



\ 



74 THOUOHTS BY THE OCEAN, 

There's nmsi;' in thy murmuring roar 
When storms have left thy shelly shore ; 
It comes from where thy sea nymphs dwell, 
Like music from some coral shell. 



/ WATCH FOB THEE. 

''^["^IS evening, and the shades of night 

Are stealing- o'er the lea ; 
The fire upon the hearth glows bright: 

I wait and watch for thee. 

The sun's last ray shines dimly on 

The distant forest tree, 
Tlie canary now has hushed his song: 

I list and watch for thee. 

I hear thy footsteps on the street, 

My heart throbs joyfully ; 
I watch no more but bound to meet 

The smile thou hast for me. 



7€ I WATCH FOR THEE. 

I knew when daylight's task was done, 

And thon from labor free, 
That thou wouldst quickly hasten home 

To her \vho watched for thee. 



MORNING MEDITATIONS. 

A WAKE, my soul, to labor, for the day is 

dawning ; 
The silent wheels of time are rolling fast, 
And soon will bring the shadows of the evening, 
When the time to labor will be over past. 

And shall the evening find my task neglected. 
The deeds of love I might have done un- 
wrought. 

And naught but idleness to my mind reflected. 
For deep investigation, bitter thought ? 



/8 MORNING MEDITATIONS. 

Ah, no ; I would not live a life so aimless 

That none would ever miss me when I'm 
gone, 

I would not leave this busy stage of action 
With life's great purposes undone. 

But I so faithfully would do my every duty, 
Performing all the work to me assigned. 

That all would say, when my life work Avas 
finished. 
She did the best she could to bless mankind. 

And when I cross death's cold and chilling river, 
O may I rest, when life's hard race is run. 

At home in Heaven, where I can hear my 
Saviour 
Saying, my child, well done, well done. 



TO MY INFANT SON._ 

A S I hold thy chubby hand in mine 

And gaze upon thy face, 
>S() hmocejit, 8o pure, where time 

Hath left no furrowed trace, 
I press thee fondly to my heart 

And breathe the earnest prayer 
That sin, with its vile, pois(>nous dart, 

May leave no traces there. 



80 TO MY INFANT SON. 

Thou canst not know, my little one,- 

Joy of my heart and life, — 
My feelings when I think thou soon 

Must join earth's scenes of strife 
And battle with its many cares, 

Its thousand foes to meet, 
And be exposed to all the snares 

That are laid for little feet. 



When I see thy face beam with that smile 

I scarce can think that thou 
Can e'er be led in paths of guile. 

Or be less pure than now. 
And yet I know thou art not divine, 

Thou art mortal, prone to stray, 
And, like the rest of human kind, 

To miss truth's narrow way. 



TO MY INFANT SON. - 

But O may He whose mighty power 

Contracts the raghig seas 
I.ead thee, dear boy, forever more 

In paths of right and peace. 
( ) Saviour, guide those little feet 

In the way thyself hath trod 
Until they walk the golden street 

In the Paradise of God. 



81 



11 



WE WHICH HAVE BELIEVED DO 
ENTER INTO REST. 

^VTYi talk of our rest in the sky, 
Of the joys of that region so fair, 

And ofttinies grow weary and sigli 
For the rest that awaiteth us there. 

We speak of the river of life, 

That makes glad the whole city of God, 
We rejoice that the world's busy strife 

Never enters that quiet abode. 

But how often, I fear, we o'erlook 

The sweet Heaven we may have in our 
breast, 
For the Saviour has said in his book. 

That they who believe do have rest. 



WE WHICH HAVE BELIEVED, ETC. 80 

Thit th ' stron; iron shitckles of sin 

Xo l<)ni;or shall fi ttcr the soul, 
That those U'lholy pa^^s'ons within 

No longer the heart .-hall eontrol. 

For the Saviour has made it his home, 
He bids its wild conflicts all cease ; 

Its affections no longer shall roam, 

But, centered on him, shall have jieace. 

I would not have us love Heaven less, 

But I would that the whole world might 
know 

That God's kingdom may be in our breast, 
And that Heaven may begin here below. 

For I ever shall praise our dear Lord, 
As long as life thr(jbs in my breast, 

That he ever has said in his word 
That they who believe do have rest 



INVOCATION. 

/ ^OME, muse, 'tis midnight's quiet hour 

The mists of night are thick and deep, 
And Morpheus, with her awful power, 
Has wrapt a drowsy world in sleep. 

O bring me visions bright and fair, — 
Visions of peace, of joy, and rest, — 

To drive away the anxious care 

That agitates my throbbing breast. 



INVOCATION. 85 

Come, muse, and to this troubled heart 
That sinks beneath its weight of woes 

Bring thoughts that bid all gloom depart, 
And hushes into sweet repose. 

Dispel the (douds that overcast 

My tired mind, and bring, oh ! bring- 
Some bright remembrance of the past 
To lift my spirit's drooping wing. 

Oh ! help me, in the time to come, 

Bravely to meet earth's pain and strife, 

To look midst scenes of deepest gloom 
Upon the sunny side of life. 



TO THE LOVED AT HOME. 

T^ATHER, mother, sister, bi^(ithcr, 
Far from you to- night I roam 

In a distant land of strangers, 
Far from childhood's early home. 

Far from scenes beloved in childhood, 
Far from kindred tics of love, 

Far from sunny haunts of pleasure, 
Where in youth I loved to rove. 

Autumn winds to-night are blowing, 
(From Pacific's shore they come), 

Wafting breezes of aifection 
To the ones I loved at home. 



no THE LOVED AT FIOME.* 87 

O iiiny lieavo:i'8 gentlest breezes 
Wait you peace upon their wings, 

And aff.'ction's bright dew moisten 
Flowery seenes where memory clings. 

Flowery scc>nes which fliithful memory 
Brings me from my native hind, 

An.l she help^ me cull the treasures 
With her slender, magic hand. 

Hasten, breezes ! bear the message 
That mv heart sends forth to-night 

To the fondly cherished loved ones, 
When dull Morpheus takes her flight. 

Tell them, though I oft have wandered 

In forbidden paths and wild, 
God has ever dealt in mercy 

With their absent, erring child. 



?<^ 



LINES WRITTEN UNDER 31 Y PICTURE. 

nV/TY soul, let not earth's scenes entwine 

Around thee with their transient joys ; 
Its glittering treasures all combine 
To draw thee from thy native skies. 

But O, my soul, forever pray 

That all the powers God has given 

May be engrossed each passing day 
In laying treasures up in Heaven. 



THE END. 



